


The Rabbit and The Serpent

by Fanlan



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: (its not zira its part of his backstory and how he was born), Animal AU, Blood and Injury, Kidnapping, M/M, Mpreg mentioned, Needles, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Pre Relationship, Protective Crowley (Good Omens), Protective Uriel, Rabbit aziraphale, Snake Crowley (Good Omens), angst and fluff depending on the chapter, kinda angels are genderless, meet cute, nothing graphic but it is there, two bros sharing a burrow together
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-26 19:07:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21873565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fanlan/pseuds/Fanlan
Summary: Angels and demons have animals as their true forms, Aziraphale was put in the garden to guide the humans despite his small and frail form and the demon Crawly was instructed to tempt and consume the little rabbit if he got in the way.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 161
Kudos: 400





	1. Post Eden Meet Cute

**Author's Note:**

> I might add more later. Tell me what you think of the au.

“Let’s go over it once more.”

Aziraphale’s ears perked up towards the branch Gabriel was perched on, despite being related and Gabriel being instructed by their mother to look after him, there would always be something terrifying about a hawk above a rabbit. Aziraphale fidgeted under his gaze, brushing his paws over his ears to keep them down, his uncle hated it when he lacked faith in him.

“I am to protect the humans from partaking in the fruit of knowledge.”

Aziraphale tilted his head up towards the tree he cowered under, raising himself up on shaky hindlegs to give more emphasis that he was talking about the apples hanging on low branches, some low enough for even Aziraphale to grab with his paws.

“And how will someone like you do that?”

Aziraphale felt himself flop back down on the grass and began to absently groom at his pure white fur. Gabriel didn’t believe in him; he was counting on him to fail and that stung. It often felt like he was set up for failure just to be berated later, his family was strong and he was the weak link. The prey in the den of hunters.

“Having faith in them to do what is right.”

That would always be the wrong answer, just as it was the wrong assumption that Gabriel could count on someone like Aziraphale to do what was right. Aziraphale shrunk into himself and began to quake as his uncle’s wings snapped out. He glided around the trees for a moment, blocking out Aziraphale’s light and making him quake in terror. He had been under his uncle’s talons before and it was never a pleasant experience.

Gabriel dropped in front of him, no longer a mighty hawk, but in his human form. He glared down at Aziraphale demanding he shift as well, Aziraphale rose from the ground and with a blink of the eye was no longer a soft rabbit but a soft human in a matching robe to his uncle.

“You can not have faith in them to do what is right,” Gabriel chastised with a firm shake of the head, “You must guide them as we guide you. And if it is called for you must protect them, as we protect you.”

He held a flaming sword out to Aziraphale who hesitantly took it feeling the weight in his hands, a weight he wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to handle.

;

Aziraphale quaked in his hiding spot, he had made a little den in the desert, but it was already collapsing under the pressure of the rain that had yet to relent. He wasn’t allowed to become his other form until the rain let up as punishment for failing in his task and well his true form, as much as he loved it, wasn’t meant for this weather.

It was agonizing to be in the onslaught of the weather, he had been soaked while burrowing into his new hovel and every joint was still screaming in pain. His hindlegs would not function and for the time he was paralyzed in the spot he huddled, bristling in vain trying to dry the excess water from his fur.

His shelter began to shake again, and he braced himself for it to collapse on him, oh dying was never fun and coming back from death was always even more painful. He clasped his paws over his ears and began praying to his mother, begging for strength and begging his family to pull him out of this hovel and not make him dig his way out after his body resurrected. 

“Hope you don’t mind the company little bunny,” a voice hissed making him shake harder as the snake who got him into this predicament slithered deeper into his hole bumping their noses together in the tight space. He had no choice but to stare into the eyes as of his mortal foe, someone who had the upper hand and would gladly devour him. Leave him to digest in the bowels of his stomach for all eternity.

“Please,” Aziraphale shakily whispered unable to move, the cold and fear leaving him fully paralyzed now, “Please. I have nothing left for you. You won.” 

“How ya figure that, little bunny?” the snake questioned slithering around him as he shook harder; another round of shock settling in, “How do you suppose this wasn’t all meant to happen? Man was meant to gain free will all along?”

Aziraphale didn’t respond eyes darting to the admittedly comfortable body wrapped around him, settling in for the cold days ahead of them. 

“Ya know little bunny,” the snake said casually resting his head near Aziraphale to look into his eyes once more, “If I was going to eat you, I would have already. You can’t run and well I was technically supposed to if you got in the way.”

The rabbit began quaking harder at the small threat.

“But then I saw that sword of yers, flaming like nothing ever was and thought it would be in my best interest to stay away.”

The snake’s body was surprisingly warm for a cold blooded creature and Aziraphale felt himself burrowing into it. His body tingling with pins and needles as he slowly came out of shock.

“Where is that sword now? Could use it now that we are both hiding from the cold, no where to go in this lovely wasteland we are stuck in for the time being.”

Aziraphale, half asleep after hours of pain and cold, mumbled the truth, not thinking of the consequences. He was entirely too trusting of a demon and he supposed he would always be, well of this particular demon at least.

“I gave it away.”

The snake shook as his body shot up in bewilderment shaking Aziraphale making the pins and needles in his joints turn to fiery pain once more. He cried out and began quivering again as the demon shouted something his brain didn’t register right away.

“I had to! Please! Eve was pregnant! And Gabriel warned me of all the predators and I couldn’t! I couldn’t let them go defenseless! It would be cruel!”

The demon settled back down with a sigh coiling his tail over the rabbit like a blanket, the soothing weight helped calm and ground Aziraphale enough to calm his quakes and keep himself from reentering shock.

“And what of you, little bunny? How were you to deal with the predators?”

Aziraphale thought it was a silly question and just stared at the demon, a frown settled on his face.

“I would have faith. Faith in mother to get me through this and my family to protect me until I can change form once more.”

The demon chuckled at his response coiling tighter around the rabbit as the wind began howling outside blowing sprinkles of water into their burrow.

“That ain’t gonna get ya far little rabbit,” he chided blocking him from the weather breaking in.

“But it already has.”

“How so?”

“You found me and are blocking the cold, aren’t you?”

The demon chuckled at his reasoning.

“You are an odd one, little bunny.”

“My name is Aziraphale,” Aziraphale cut in, “If I am going to be sharing my home with you, we should properly introduce ourselves.”

“Crawly.”

Aziraphale chuckled at that but was too tired to make a jab at the snake demon named Crawly.


	2. The Black Knight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I just had inspiration for a little scene during their knight days. Idk, just go with it

Aziraphale stared into the face of death and it stared back with bleak eyes.

He dearly wished he was staring at Death himself, instead he was staring at what would have been his own morality if he hadn’t been created an angel. His stomach churned seeing the line of skewered and skinned rabbit corpses cooking by the fire. He dearly wished that the men would be less barbaric about these deaths, possibly chopping up the poor creatures so one didn’t have to stare into dead eyes or at the very least added any kind of seasoning to make their deaths matter in the sense they became a meal that tasted scrumptious.

“Sir Aziraphale,” Lancelot called towards him grabbing one of the skewered creatures and taking a meek bite before turning to him. Aziraphale found some fortune in the fact that the men tended to eat like gentleman instead of like pigs consuming slop.

“What did the black knight summon you for?”

Aziraphale turned once more towards the fire and stared into the dead eyes of his kin and said nothing. It was best to keep your silence on matters such as these unless you wished to be the prey, either by your king for holding council with his greatest enemy or your siblings for associating with the damned.

“Oh, you know,” he shrugged, “Nonsense about betraying my loyalty to the king and our kingdom.”

“He is a deceptive one, my lord,” said a timid squire making Aziraphale cringe as he broke off one of the dead rabbit’s arms, “He has led even the best of us astray. Take head speaking to him.”

“Gilgamesh speaks wisely,” Lancelot said with a nod, “You know what he did to our brothers to the south, he took the land and cast it into darkness.”

;

Aziraphale shed his tunic and pants hanging them with care from a nearby tree before shifting into his true form, a thick fog covering him concealing his actions from any nearby onlookers.

He hopped into a hollowed-out log and waited until he felt familiar scales coil around him, surrounding him and trapping him. He nuzzled against a snake head as it settled next to him.

“How rude they are,” the snake hissed playfully bumping noses with the rabbit, “Slaughtering and consuming little bunnies in front of God’s first bunny.”

“They are good and noble men, they mean no harm,” Aziraphale mumbled twitching his nose as Crowley playfully bumped their noses together once more, demanding attention.

“Noble men don’t treat the poor as they do, little bunny.”

“I am working to amend those conditions, guiding my king on a noble path, if only there wasn’t a wily serpent dampening my progress.”

“Fraid its not me, little bunny, I rarely do what I am told, free will sends humans down dangerous paths. I just take advantage of the outcome.”

“Most good doesn’t come from me despite my efforts,” Aziraphale admitted after a slow sigh, “I fear you are right that our influence means not.”

“Neither side do a lick of good,” Crowley mused running his tongue over fluffy fur, helping his bunny groom properly, “Free will, I’m afraid, does our work for us.”

“Have you considered my offer?”

Aziraphale nervously swiped at his ear with his paw sending it into Crowley’s face making the snake hiss in annoyance.

“Isn’t it lying? Only one of us doing the assignment then just taking the credit for what the humans were likely to do anyway after we do very little?”

“I suppose,” the demon hummed nipping playfully at the ears that smacked his face, “But it means we spend more time doing this and less time, pretending to be nobility and what have you.”

“I grow tired of the humans treating you so,” the serpent hissed knowing the humans weren’t always kind to a meek rabbit who rarely had means of protecting himself, “I tire of Heaven just making demands of you and then never making sure you are safe. Let me take care of you, my little bunny.” 

Aziraphale thought on it, nestling into Crowley.

“I have always wanted my own little burrow, a place where I am always safe and you are always near.”

Crowley hummed playfully slithering his tongue into a long ear making his rabbit squirm.

“And you would have it, my little bunny, whatever your heart desired.”

Aziraphale nuzzled Crowley once more before squirming free from the demon’s coils and exiting the safe haven. He turned back into his human form and turned a sad smile towards the red head now standing behind him.

“One day my love, but I can not be tempted like that yet. I need to have faith in her plan and that my family always know best.”

Crowley watched him leave, one day he would tighten himself around his little rabbit and refuse to let him leave. One day he would find a burrow just for them, a warm and safe place for them to live together.

Today he would he let him go and keep him from danger as best as he could from the shadows.


	3. The Basket

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few things about this AU: 
> 
> 1) none of it will be in order, it will just kinda jump around time whenever I feel like it. So it could be anywhere from post Eden to after the end that wasn't. 
> 
> 2) Since I changed angels and demons, they actually do need to eat and sleep in this au since their true forms are animals. just like immortal animals. 
> 
> 3) they are still magic but they get an allowance of miracles from heaven and hell, hell doesn't care and just lets crowley do whatever but Zira is on a tighter leash. they can also die but they just kinda come back from the dead instead of discorporating. 
> 
> 4) yes, I do requests for this au. if you want to see a scenario, just tell me and I will see if I can write it. just note all the chapters are usually gonna be short.

Soho wasn’t the most ideal place for a bookshop and Aziraphale himself with his expensively tailored suit and upper-class air to him didn’t quite fit in either. Soho was the red-light district of London, a place for ne’er-do-wells and illicit conduct, not pursuit of knowledge.

Despite that or maybe because of that, Aziraphale found it perfect. Oh, he had always wanted to own his own shop! Have a business all his own to sell his goods and talk to strangers of all kinds without ever leaving the comfort of home! Yet, he found bringing his vast collections of books he had hid here and there over the years, he couldn’t part with a single one. He would have to find more stock to sell, make deals with authors, yes, that sort of thing. Maybe he could part with something not personally attached to him he considered. And there always were book repairs and assisting scholars, yes, he could always use his shop for that as well!

He was arranging the door display when the bell above the door jangled for the first time. He smiled catching familiar black attire from the corner of his eye.

Crowley, unlike he, looked like he belonged perfectly on the streets of Soho. He seemed like just the type of man who hired men to grave rob for him and only cut them a slight percent of the profit. Much like the mortician Aziraphale now lived next to, he wondered if Crowley knew the man, he seemed like the type he would business on the side with.

“Funny place to build yer burrow.”

Aziraphale smiled at the frown settled on Crowley’s face as he leaned against his cane, eying each face who passed by the shop with suspicion.

“Its perfect,” Aziraphale stated glancing behind his shoulder at a group of finely dressed ladies stopping in front of his shop to whisper to his neighbor who appeared to slip them money.

“Right,” Crowley said sneering at the group in front of the shop who immediately began to disperse at his minor demonic miracle, “I thought I would bring you a little something to help you get settled.”

“Oh?”

Out of seemingly thin air he pulled a basket from behind his back and held it in front of Aziraphale whose eyes glowed so brightly in excitement Crowley nearly fell over himself as he stood back.

A large tartan bow (his personal tartan!) sat atop a large wicker basket overflowing with his favorite pastries and candies. Aziraphale dropped his book he had been holding as he brought a hand to his mouth and Crowley turned so red, he looked a bit like he was being roasted alive.

“Oh my…for me?”

“I just thought, ya know, ya might…”

Crowley was babbling and Aziraphale feeling bolder than he had ever placed a kiss on the demon’s cheek making him look ready to pass out as he took the basket from his hands.

;

Aziraphale had been crying and couldn’t get himself to stop crying.

He had tried to put himself into a report for Heaven on the progress he had with the humans and how his miracles were doing a difference. He knew it was important to do this, he needed to do this now that he would likely never talk to Crowley again, if he didn’t get his reports done; he wouldn’t have any miracles allotted to him. Then where would he be? Last time he was cut off, he had nearly been beheaded in France.

He just couldn’t focus on Heaven or his siblings or his faith in his mother or even the mundane practices of keeping his shop running.

He was beginning to feel lightheaded and realized he had yet to eat. He needed to sleep. He needed to do something besides cry like a ninny.

He choked on another sob, but he couldn’t.

Crowley wanted holy water, he wanted him to steal from Heaven, and he couldn’t understand why. Why would he want that?! Why would he expect him to give him his suicide pill?! Be an accomplice in murder?! Be the reason Hell destroyed Crowley…

He walked into the sitting area and through his tears spotted the night sky blue blanket he had been knitting for Crowley. He pulled it close to his chest sobbing harder, collapsing on the floor. He spotted the wicker basket Crowley had gifted him all those years ago, the lovely tartan bow still standing tall at the top, shakily he pulled it towards him and dumped out the yarn that had been stored there.

He tucked the half-knit blanket into the basket that still smelled like fresh lit cinnamon candles, still smelled of Crowley after all these years. He transformed into his true form, leaving his clothing strew across the floor as if he had just been raptured.

He tucked himself into the basket and still failed to sleep thinking of Crowley and praying to his mother he never got his hands on that holy water. He couldn’t live in a world, no in a galaxy, without Crowley there.

“Don’t cry little bunny...”

His long ears shot up at the familiar voice, he melted into Crowley’s slender fingers messaging into his fur.

Bending down Crowley gently picked up the rabbit and let Aziraphale bury himself into his fleece jacket, it was already collecting clumped white fur onto the fine material but neither said anything about it. 

Aziraphale woke the next morning with a snake wrapped tightly around him in his basket.


	4. Favors, 1945

“Crawly.”

Hastur was always a face to ruin anyone’s day, a large warty toad hiding in his freshly potted figs. Crowley sneered in response to the toad, brandishing his cutting sheers threateningly and snipping the head off a healthy thick fly trap as a warning to both his fellow demon and the plants around him.

“Don’t make threats ya can’t keep,” Hastur croaked towards him.

“I would keep it if’n I had to,” Crowley threatened transforming into his true form as well, a large snake that could easily eat a nasty toad whole. He bared his teeth and hissed, this was as customary a greeting as denizens of hell could give each other.

“I notice the bunny is still around,” the toad snared puffing himself up with a deep breath trying to assert dominance he would never have.

“Haven’t had reason to eat a bunny who knows his place, but I see a toad who doesn’t quite.”

A crooked smile formed on the toad as he finally chuckled.

“Alright, well, that’s not what I needed from ya, put yer fangs away, I shall not harm the bunny,” Hastur chuckled, “I need a favor is all.”

;

The favor just so happened to be perfect for the little bunny, Crowley had a favor he could cash in from 1897 and an incident with a dog.

“I haven’t been a muse since Oscar Wilde!” Aziraphale had moaned angrily but Crowley wouldn’t hear of it, coiling his snake form tightly around Aziraphale’s human form making him huff in annoyance.

“But it is right up your alley, little bunny,” Crowley hissed playfully into his ear, “And if you manage to complete the task for me, Hastur shall relent a decade worth of miracles to me and neither of us will have to do much but enjoy each other’s company.”

“Does anyone in Hell do any work?” Aziraphale moaned shifting into a rabbit so Crowley was wrapped around clothing alone so he could slip from his grasp and hop back into his basket to lie down.

“Very little,” Crowley chuckled running his tongue over Aziraphale’s fur helping getting out the messy clumps from a lack of proper grooming, “We pass it on to each other for favors and favors add up and the more we have, the more miracles we are allotted from Lucifer.”

“I will help you,” Aziraphale sighed, “But you owe me.”

“The usual favor little bunny?” he said playfully shifting back into human form and picking the rabbit up. He sat him on his lap on the couch and began properly brushing his fur making the bunny purr in delight nestling against him.

“I wish to go dancing and a night at the Ritz and you must use your miracle to get me to win any auction of my choosing.”

Crowley chuckled, spoiled little brat, he would have gotten all that regardless and they both knew that.

;

Over a year later, Aziraphale practically skipped to his normal seat in St James’s park, a proud smile on his lips.

“The deed?”

“It’s done you wily serpent,” Aziraphale said haughtily, primly folding his hands in front of him but his smile had yet to die.

“A truly foul piece of literature that will be banned from every school in time and will have people swearing it was created by Satan and as an added bonus for me, I shall have a first addition that shall be signed after publication.”

“Where ever would I be without you my little bunny,” Crowley chuckled placing a kiss on Aziraphale’s temple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those curious, aziraphale tempted the catcher in the rye to be published.


	5. Sodom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those curious, I had this vulture in mind for Sandalphon: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/White-backed_vulture

Sodom, in Aziraphale’s opinion, wasn’t nearly as bad as his siblings lead him to believe.

He lived in a lovely little burrow outside of town, he supposed some would refer to it as a tent or hut, but burrow felt nicer, it felt more like home. He travelled to and from Sodom trying to sway hearts of sin through words and his handful of miracles, but he didn’t have much luck in the traditional way. He mainly found himself helping the poor souls in the slums, bringing them food and giving them money, he got from odd jobs here and there and using small miracles to help them heal from sickness. 

He had faith that things would eventually get better for the people, but he found out in the market that day, Heaven did not have faith in them, nor did they have faith in their principality.

He was purchasing meat for the poor despite his own discomfort at handling dead prey when he heard someone calling his name.

“Aziraphale!”

He glanced over to see Sandalphon, a shiver travelled down his spine seeing that the archangel hadn’t chosen his human form but was a very large white backed vulture, he sat atop the bucket of discarded, rotten meat partaking in a decomposed rabbit. Aziraphale knew better then to look away so had to watch him throw back his large neck and gulp down the gutted rabbit, its beady eyes still intact and boring into Aziraphale.

He froze in fear as the vulture’s wings spread and with a hop, he landed on Aziraphale’s shoulder. Shakily Aziraphale held his arm out to hold the large weight better and despite the thick tan robes, the talons still managed to carelessly pierce into him making him shake hard as a thin sliver of blood trailed down him.

“Gabriel sent me to tell you to leave while you can, God has decided to allow me to smite this city down and allow it to burn to ash instead of staying as a temple of sin.”

“But what of—” Aziraphale hissed and tears prickled his eyes as Sandalphon dug his talons deeper into his flesh dampening his light cloth red.

“No one is to live, but one family and I don’t think its gonna end too well for him either despite his faith. Just get out of here, eh? Be a good bunny.”

;

Crowley was woken that night by a loud banging at the door of his villa, grumbling he didn’t even bother to robe his nudity before throwing the door open. He was about to tear into whoever bothered him when he softened seeing his bunny.

“Hello little bunny, what brings you to this snake’s den?”

“I need your help Crowley! Please!” Aziraphale looked wild, panicked and ready to flea. The blood soaking his robes didn’t go unnoticed by Crowley.

“What’s wrong---”

Aziraphale cut him off yanking off his blood-soaked robe and tossing it over Crowley’s shoulders before yanking him out of his home. Aziraphale, as always, wore two layers but the barely bandaged injuries were more noticeable then ever without his thick upper robe.

“We must hurry! They won’t live if we don’t get them out of here!”

“Who—”

“The poor and helpless! It is not their fault this city fell the way it did to demons! Please Crowley, please I can not let them die!”

Crowley had learned long ago to not question his bunny when he got like this and allowed him to pull him away.

;

There were exactly two survivors of Sodom: they were a demon and an angel. The entire city turned to salt and ash and the people died with it.

Aziraphale was in his true form limp in Crowley’s arms as they travelled through the desert. He had yet to move, yet to speak, he just stared off. He hadn’t stopped trembling since he saw the first child smited he had tried so desperately to lead from the city. He had fallen to the ground with the people he tried to save, nothing more then a bundle of robes, not strong enough to keep up his human form as trauma settled in.

Crowley finally set up camp miles away, after a day of walking, too tired to go further. He didn’t have much but he did have a bag of supplies to get them safely to the next city. He made a fire and sat cross legged in front of it, using nimble fingers to change soiled bandages on his bunny’s shoulder.

Aziraphale didn’t squirm like he normally would, stiff and in shock of one of his own behaving so cruelly.

“Have faith, little bunny,” Crowley mumbled to him gently forcing water down him to keep away dehydration, “I will always be here to protect you.”

That seemed to settle the bunny enough to finally close his eyes and that was all Crowley needed to finally allow the anger to settle on his face.


	6. The Blitz

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this story has really become a test on how to develop a story in a short amount of words without going overboard on detail and extra fluff I like to put in stories.

Aziraphale didn’t always choose to go out in his true form, he always found more protection in his human form. It wasn’t as easy for predators to strike him in that form, but it had its draw backs. Mainly it wasn’t as fast nor did it blend in like his true form and when it came to completing a task in secrecy, it was for the best he opted for this form.

He hid in a thick bush, he waited for the man to settle in his normal spot in the garden before bouncing towards him, hiding in the thick brush of flowers surrounding his bench as he sat with his thoughts.

Heaven often lacked creativity, they weren’t too indifferent from Hell in this regard, they didn’t understand the impact of writers as demons understood it. Literature in all forms was important and Heaven didn’t have enough writers on their end Aziraphale always managed to think with dismay. He had been hoarding miracles, not using a single one on himself opting to fuel his form with food and cloth his form with well fitted garments and work for money to keep his business going just to use his miracles on something he found much more important.

Crowley didn’t like it, he had gotten on to him more then once for becoming ill or going without living like a mortal instead of using his miracles on himself but with the war coming, the second great war coming soon, Heaven was becoming more and more greedy with miracles.

Literature was important to Aziraphale and authors who worked through Heaven were rarer to come by these days, that’s how he came to using his gifts from his mother, his speed, his cunningness and his ability to blend into nature to his advantage using his few miracles to gift the likes of CS Lewis and JRR Tolkien with endless motivation and creativity to keep up their work. 

;

It was 1940 and Aziraphale had been out making sure one of Lewis’s novels, The Problem of Pain, got published and a copy was secured for one Mr. Fell, first addition, first print and signed just for him when the first bomb warnings went out.

He had been scurrying as fast as he could back to his shop when he paused, ears snapping up sensing the danger coming before the blaring sirens warned all of London of the impending attacks. Panic set in realizing there was no place for him to go and if he shifted into his human form now, he would be naked, and he just couldn’t blend properly into the mob of panicking people like that!

“Oh, little bunny, the messes you get into,” a familiar voice above him scoffed as long slender fingers coiled tightly around him and hoisted him into Crowley’s safe arms. He shivered and hid his head into Crowley’s shoulder, licking his cheek in thanks for the rescue.

Crowley glared down at him, warning him he would never hear the end of this as they went underground into the subway station in one of the many temporary bomb shelters.

;

Food was rationed as the bombing carried on through the night and well into the next day. Many glares were thrown Crowley’s way as he stole an extra ration just to feed to his little bunny, but none attempted to start anything with the tall man in black. There was something evil about him a few people whispered to each other, something demonic.

Aziraphale frowned at that, demonic sure, but evil? His Crowley was not any where near evil. It was due to his demonic miracle the shelter was staying up and not collapsing under the weight of the bombs.

There was an area for animals to be crated in the shelter and Aziraphale was thankful Crowley had refused to put him in a pen like livestock. He heard the dogs howling from their crates and cuddled closer to Crowley for protection, dogs had never been kind to him. Even in his human form, they seemed to know what he was, and he had been bitten by more then one of the beasts in his lifetime.

Crowley had made them a little space in a corner far away from the mongrels but even still their howls echoed along with the bombs crashing down on the city.

“Relax little bunny,” Crowley crooned gently running his fingers through his fur, “It will be over with soon.”

Crowley sat a little metal cup beside him with watered down tea and Aziraphale gratefully hopped towards it, taking little sips to calm his nerves and graciously nibbling on the biscuits Crowley laid out for him.

Aziraphale stayed close to Crowley during their time in the shelter, away from large feet that would gladly crush him to sprite Crowley or the howls of the dogs who may yet break from their crates.

He burrowed his way under Crowley’s jacket to keep the noise down that rung in his ears and made him quake. Crowley placed his bowler hat on top of the lump in his jacket to drown out the noise further as they both settled into a restless sleep.


	7. Magic and Loyalty P1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My first Multi Part little saga for the au. Enjoy!

When Aziraphale had been created, he had been gifted to the archangels to protect until Earth was complete for the little rabbit to roam.

Uriel was the only one who had enough patience to create a nest for the kit and tuck him under their wing. And oh, did Aziraphale love his sibling’s wings, trails of golden starlight on an inky black canvas. They were the first owl and the wisest of his siblings, Aziraphale looked up to Uriel and if there was any approval he sought, it would be theirs. Later in life, they took to collecting knowledge just for them and found he enjoyed literature just as fondly.

Heaven was not peaceful when Aziraphale was a kit, he had been created not long before the rebellion and because of the rebellion, would be the final child Mother would create for her kingdom. The last of her children born to guide her newest creations, the humans.

“Why were they cast away?” Aziraphale had asked tucked safely underneath Uriel as Michael dug poison needles from Gabriel’s battered and broken wing. Even weak and incapacitated, Gabriel howled and wreathed and hissed at his sibling. Michael was never one to back down and stomped her talon into his back and forced him to remain still on the ground, digging the needles out with more force then needed. 

Aziraphale quaked under Uriel, he feared Gabriel even though he shouldn’t. Gabriel was always more likely to take his frustration on him.

“The demons can not be trusted Aziraphale,” Uriel said simply settling on top their kit, keeping him safe underneath them from their battle worn and frustrated siblings.

“They are all that is evil and all that is wrong, it is our duty to protect our mother’s kingdoms and creations from them.”

“I will as well?”

Uriel shifted enough to begin gently kneading their talons against the kit’s fur, making him cringe and cower knowing one misstep from his sibling could turn a simple grooming into a death sentence. 

“You will lead them, you will be cunning and full of tricks to always keep them from the demons, but you shall hopefully never have reason to fight, Aziraphale. As long as we are here, we will protect you, always.”

;

It was the late 19th century and occult things were becoming popular among the humans. It was both strange and fascinating for Aziraphale and he felt obliged to keep an eye on such activities, it was his duty as an angel after all.

Seances were thrilling, Aziraphale found himself attending more then one, holding hands with the humans around him in a futile attempt to summon the dead. Once or twice Aziraphale would find himself holding hands with a certain serpent who would test Aziraphale’s patience by allowing the humans and angel into a glimpse of hell. They had contacted Shakespeare more then once to hear him bemoan the plays he was forced to conduct in Hell, the demons weren’t fans of tragedies and he was quickly growing tired of Midsummer Nightmare by the sound of it. Despite the complaints, he was doing well, you would have to be truly evil to be tortured in Hell, they had standards and rules set upon them by committee of course. Aziraphale had heard Michael once complaining about the committee, they put red tape on everything, and it wasn’t just Hell that suffered for it. Heaven had its own red tape on the souls in Heaven, nothing drastic but it was there. Michael hoped the committee and truces and rules would be the first to go once the war was won.

The year was 1870 and Aziraphale had never felt more alive then he was now walking towards a theater building west of Soho with a large black top hat crossed by a wand and cards flying heavenward painted on a billboard with the name Maskelyne written in bold letters just bellow the hat. He straightened his bow tie and adjusted his hat before walking in enthusiastically into the building.

He had been aware that real magic didn’t take place in this building and sometimes felt a little offended how only rabbits were pulled from hats but his oldest brother seemed to believe his exaggerations when he said he was ‘pulling the sinful away from demonic magic and back to the light little by little’ and he had a fondness for showman ship.

They were covering hecklers today and Aziraphale was appalled by the very nature, it was just rude to interrupt a show like this. He didn’t appreciate in during the first performance of Hamlet and he wasn’t about to approve of it for beginners learning a fun trade.

He found himself quite red faced as one of Maselyne’s nephews berated every trick he knew as practice and wished he had a miracle or two up his sleeve now to give divine retribution to such a rude child. He would never hurt the child, but he would see how he felt about name calling after a month of all desert turning to ash in his mouth.

“The card is in the great southern pansy’s sleeve!” the child yelled as Aziraphale did his card trick, “And look at that! The idiot can’t even give the right card! I said nine of heart, stupid!”

“I’m sorry, young sir,” Aziraphale said with gritted teeth and forced smile, “But your card was the nine of spade!”

“He’s lying! A right scam artist this one! Just wants to trick us for our coin! Nothing magic about him! Great stupid fat boar!”

Aziraphale about snapped at that, he was hardly boorish! Soft yes but he was a rabbit and he felt defensive being called anything less. 

“Mr. Fell,” his professor of the art interrupted his performance from the back row of the theater, every eye in the audience on him and away from the pathetic display on the stage.

“What was it I told you at the beginning of this exercise?”

Aziraphale felt himself melting under his scrutinizing eyes, all of a sudden magic wasn’t fun anymore, it was just another reminder he was a failure.

“I was told to play off criticism with a joke,” Aziraphale stated feeling quite small under everyone’s judging eyes, the snickers of his fellow students and the evil look on the beastly child before him.

“And yet, you have not, you just take it, come down and take your seat, you are embarrassing not only yourself but everyone around you taking a beating from a child.”

Aziraphale hung his head in shame returning to the audience as another student took stage and prepared to fight off the heckles of the little beast.

;

“Don’t take it so hard.”

Aziraphale glanced up from where he was still jittering in embarrassment in his seat barely paying attention to the next performer who was doing much better than he had. He didn’t recognize the man sitting next to him, he couldn’t recall ever seeing him in this class the month he had been attending. The man reminded him of Crowley the way he dressed and held himself tall, hand gripping the golden handle of luxurious walking cane. Hand crafted and the head of a lion carved at the top, it seemed to match his rich wine-red attire, he was someone who certainly wanted to stand out. Not that he would have needed much help, his glass eye and large bulky build made him stand out enough. 

“This ain’t real magic,” the man chuckled a bit watching the performance before them, “Just pretend.”

“Magic isn’t real,” Aziraphale stated nervously, something about the man set him off, “It’s just a performance, mister?”

“Jenkins,” the man said with a smarmy smile taking in every inch of Aziraphale, “I fancy myself an enthusiast of the occult and everything outside our realm of understanding. If you want real magic, Mr. Fell, which I know your type, you do; You should join me at my estate tonight.”

Despite every instinct that told him he shouldn’t go with this man, he found himself nodding in agreement. It seemed he would have a real report to send to his siblings after all.


	8. Magic and Loyalty P2

It’s a bit of misconception that demons do not remember being angels, that they didn’t remember their mother language or the songs they had once sung for her. Their language just became warped and distorted and darkened as their essence and bodies. It was one of Lucifer’s best tricks creating their own language and own magic similar enough to the Enochian they once sang but it took on a different key, a different tone. The symbols that had once been their names and once held their power didn’t change, not really, they just shifted so to speak, gained new meaning in a new kingdom and a new pronunciation. It wasn’t that they forgot how their former names, it was that they could no longer pronounce it properly. And thus, all meaning of being an angel might as well have been forgotten, it was meaningless in Hell.

Crowley remembered being part of Lucifer’s flock and he remembered creating stars. He remembered his scales had once been feathers, how strange that must have been, he barely believed it. A large snake covered in feathers with large wings sprouting from his once massive body, he could have wrapped around a planet back then.

He was young though, so young, one of Lucifer’s fledglings to guide and he lead him a tad astray. He and Beelzebub had been so young, just hachlings really despite their size and power. They were born to assist Lucifer and always stay with him close to her throne. Foolish and young they were the day they fell, and their once beautiful feathers had burned to scales. He was never able to take flight again or be among the stars he created, forced to slither on the ground. He sometimes wondered if Beelzebub had it better, they could fly and they were composed of millions of tiny insects unlike other demons who were only one creature. They could be anywhere and everywhere at once, but they were rather vulnerable, a tiny insect easily squished unlike Crowley who was a large predator who could easily consume his sibling if he wished. 

Lucifer wasn’t feeling fair when he assigned ranks and despite Crowley’s superiority, he was only a Lord while his sibling was a prince. Crowley didn’t mind though and his ranking meant he got to leave the pits of Hell and become a tempter on Earth. He got assigned to Eden and his job was to see to humanity’s fall, everything rested on him and he did not fail. 

He found it curious that Hell hid its weaknesses and found strengths for them bellow, but Heaven had placed a young fluffy bunny as their protector of the apple tree. At first Crowley considered just consuming the little bunny but it was amusing watching him nuzzle against Eve and almost tempt the human into bringing him treats and flowers while he lounged under the trees while his siblings weren’t looking.

Loyalty was nothing among demons, it wouldn’t mean much if he didn’t eat the little bunny and instead chose to keep his eyes on him.

;

It was entering the twilight hour and Crowley hadn’t seen his bunny yet. He flicked open his golden waist watch and glared at the time, leaning his body against his walking cane restlessly.

He watched a man light each streetlight surrounded the little book shop and by the time each light was glowing, and the sun had faded, his bunny still hadn’t arrived.

Aziraphale hadn’t been seen in days, that wasn’t unusual, he tended to hide in his warren and lock himself from the rest of the world often. It only became troubling when Aziraphale had missed out on their scheduled lunch earlier in the day.

Aziraphale never missed out on an opportunity to engorge on good food and fine wine he didn’t have to pay a cent on. He was a spoiled bunny, he didn’t assume Crowley would pay for things, he often expected it and Crowley was only too happy to oblige in that expectation.

He hadn’t entered the shop and knew it was unsafe seeing the unusual owl perched on the roof. It caught site of him and hooted in a menacing way, Crowley sent the eternal aura permeating in the air and knew it had to be one of the archangels, one of Aziraphale’s siblings who didn’t treat him as well as they should. 

He turned away and hissed out his long flailing tongue and bared his fangs as the owl swooped in front of him. In a blink of an eye, the owl was gone and instead a middle-aged woman wearing a golden suit not usually seen on women these days. They had dark skin and speckles of glowing star dust splattered across their face, it was lovely and reminded Crowley of the stars he created. He knew Uriel had been born from stars so it was fitting they glowed like the starry night.

“The archangel Uriel,” Crowley greeted with forced menacing smile, might as well play the part of the evil demon he knew they expected him to be, “What do I owe the pleasure?”

“What have you done with him?” Uriel spat narrowing their eyes and taking a step towards the demon promising Crowley’s demise if they didn’t accept their answer.

“Who, pray tell, are we speaking of?” Crowley decided to play coy, have an air of nonchalance to mask his own panic for the missing principality and the archangel who didn’t know where he had gone either.

“My Aziraphale,” they stated not laying a hand on him yet Crowley felt himself unable to move, he felt the aura radiating on them, he felt the concealed weapon they had tucked under their dress jacket.

“I don’t know,” Crowley finally admitted a slow breath escaping him revealing his hidden worry and fear and love for the bunny that matched his sibling’s, “I haven’t seen hide or hair of him.”

“I know you tempt him,” Uriel snarled with narrow eyes, “I know my Aziraphale, I raised him. He can hide nothing from me and I have let this relationship go on long enough. What have you done with my kit?”

Crowley didn’t respond and felt the archangel reading him, forcing their way in him. His insides slowly boiling as they pushed into his thoughts, into his heart, boring into him, reading into him. They snarled finding nothing yanking away from Crowley and shifting back into an owl, flying away into the night leaving Crowley panting outside the book shop. He would have fallen if not for the walking cane he put all his weight onto.

He didn’t know what was going o but he intended to find out. He hoped his bunny hadn’t been telling his sibling about their relationship, but in his heart he knew he hadn’t. If Uriel had been spying on him and still didn’t know where he was, that meant trouble. He walked into the shop to find a flyer for a magic class, he had heard Aziraphale talk about it, but he had almost hoped he hadn’t chosen to waste his time on such nonsense. It was as close of a lead as Crowley had, so he took it.


	9. Magic and Loyalty P3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't written dreaming in a long time and wanted to try it again.

_“Jenkins,” the man said with a smarmy smile taking in every inch of Aziraphale, “I fancy myself an enthusiast of the occult and everything outside our realm of understanding. If you want real magic, Mr. Fell, which I know your type, you do; You should join me at my estate tonight.”_

_Despite every instinct that told him he shouldn’t go with this man, he found himself nodding in agreement. It seemed he would have a real report to send to his siblings after all._

Aziraphale’s hindlegs kicked out weakly and struck against clanking bars as once more the memory came and faded from his head, his eye lids twitched open and he saw the angry toad in the small cage next to his own. He croaked towards him, maybe addressed him personally but Aziraphale’s eyes were already twitching back shut. 

_Aziraphale’s ears twitched and tried to focus on the rustling in the grass, there was a foul odor consuming the empty field. Sticking his nose in the air, he tried to find the source, twitching his ear left then right hearing the rustling but his eyes couldn’t find it._

_His hind leg began to stomp on the Earth, trying to show some assertion, he wasn’t about to go down easily. Gabriel told him he always had to show life to him in battle, tell your opponent through body language you will not take this lying down._

“Wake up you useless, bunny. Up! Now! Before he returns!”

Aziraphale’s eyes creaked open, he saw the blurry toad once more, flicking his tongue angrily into his limp ear hanging from the bars of his cage. Annoyed, he swatted at the tongue, the drug taking him under once more. 

_“Crowley…”_

_The demon grunted but didn’t wake, didn’t release his hold on the rabbit he clung close to him. Aziraphale hissed in annoyance and bit down on his demon’s arm, not hard enough to draw blood just hard enough to get his attention and make him snap his eyes open angrily._

_“Go back to sleep, bratty bunny, you are warm and I’m not letting go…”_

Aziraphale felt an arm tightening around him and another grabbing his hind leg, grasping his foot hard enough to make him moan in pain. He broke from the fog the drugs put him under long enough to see a glassy eye and menacing smile bearing down onto him. His mind was trying to catch up with his vision, trying to make sense of what he was seeing, and he almost missed the painful sting of a needle being forced in his thigh. He twitched, trying to yank away in vain at the pain. The restricting hold only hardened; a delicate touch traced his aching thigh where the needle pierced.

“Go back to sleep, my sweet little bunny, I don’t think I’ll be letting you go.” 

_Mr. Jenkins was a wealthy man; from the theater he had taken Aziraphale towards the stables where his coach waited for him. The inside interior matched his wine-red attire while the outside had a black exterior. It reminded Aziraphale of the coach Crowley owned and had an overall demonic feel to it but Aziraphale would know if the man were a demon. He was mortal, maybe he partook in the dark arts, but he was not demonic._

_He held out his hand towards Aziraphale and he foolishly went into the coach with him, it was rather strange, Aziraphale couldn’t recall seeing the coachman, only the large black and white steads that pulled them along but he did recall arriving to the manor all the same._

_It was a long journey Aziraphale wished he had payed more attention to the route taken but he had taken to showing off a variety of his own magic acts to the man and found he liked his company. He was easy company and he stocked fine, rich red wine just as extravagant as his suit and Aziraphale never let down a chance to partake in finer pleasures in life, so he drank with him._

Aziraphale finally shot up as a dry tongue struck the edge of his ear, sticking for a second and tearing off a fluff of fur as it shot back. He shot a glare towards the toad in the cage adjacent to his as he slowly ran his paw over his poor ear, raw and twinging in dull pain thanks to the rude awakening.

“Stupid bunny,” the toad croaked, bloating his chest out and glaring at the rabbit, “Willingly walking into this place. I would laugh, he didn’t even need to capture you, no, you just waltz in wanting to see magic!”

“You need not be so foul,” Aziraphale primly stated trying to sit properly only to smack his head against the low cage and he was forced to lie back down on his stomach, shifting so his rear was facing the toad and he didn’t need to face the demon’s glower.

“Even if you are a demon, you could learn some manners. Maybe a ‘how are you feeling?’ or at the very least an explanation as to why I am in your horrid company at all, Lord Hastur.”

Aziraphale had never properly met the toad but he knew he was a demon Crowley often did business with. Crowley didn’t like the toad nor did he like the chameleon he was usually accompanied by, but he always had a miracle or two to spare if you were willing to make a deal with him. Aziraphale didn’t have to guess why the toad was here, demon summoning wasn’t that difficult for humans now a days, but his memories were vague. He didn’t recall how he himself had been captured or how the human had managed to drug him as he did.

His head began to ache, the small amount of movement he had done was wearing him thin already, but he shook away the fog trying to stay focused. He had likely slept enough as it was. If he could gather his strength, it was possible he could strike down the bars with a well-placed strike with his hind legs. His legs were pins and needles, stiff and near paralyzed due to whatever drug he had been under.

“Stupid bunny,” Hastur continued to snarl his way, “And to think I almost thought you could be useful when you waltzed in but its no wonder Crawly gets the best of you all the time, you are too stupid to know danger when you see it.”

The mention of Crowley made Aziraphale’s heart ache, it felt like he was always forcing the demon into dangerous situations because he didn’t think situations through. He was always getting himself into these messes.

He closed his eyes and began to pray for the strength to get out of this on his own without dragging his beloved demon into this. At such times like these, all Aziraphale could do was have strength, if not in himself then in his mother to send her blessings.


	10. Magic and Loyalty P4

Uriel had been born with the stars, made from stardust and the torn feather from Michael’s wing. It was the time before the lord gifted them children in Her kingdom and they came fully grown. They assisted Michael with the creations of the planets working alongside Lucifer who would be the first to be gifted with children, he was higher ranking then the archangels and the most beloved of all Her creations, he was the first to experience joy of fledglings.

Gabriel came before Lucifer would have his own children birthed from glistening eggs made of stars, both of his fledglings would become the creators of the constellations. Gabriel was arrogant and often easily jealous of the attention their betters, the seraphims and the cherubim, hating how they had to do as they said instead of speaking directly to their mother. When Lucifer was gifted his twin eggs, Gabriel’s ire only grew but he hid it well behind his drive to always prove himself to their mother.

The last of their small flock was Raphael, how strange Raphael was indeed, he was not a winged creature like the rest of the archangels, but he was something no one in Heaven had seen. He was a large hare with thick snowy white fur, not bound to the heavens as the rest of his siblings but stuck to the ground.

Uriel loved him all the same and maybe even more then her other siblings, he was always full of wonder and had a tall tale for every occasion. He was highly valued to mother as well, he helped her design the garden and was the only of the archangels to be granted access to HER throne. Gabriel, unlike Uriel, always held resentment for their brother.

His resentment only grew when Raphael and not he, was the archangel chosen to have a child of his own. The child wasn’t born from an egg as Lucifer had been gifted with his twins, but he grew inside him.

When Uriel asked him about that as he rested in his nest, licking the fur around his large and round stomach he would respond in the funny way he always responded about things.

“They will grow in me, close to my heart to be as filled with love for Her next creation as I am of them.” 

;

Aziraphale was so much like Raphael, it was often hard for Uriel to distinguish between the two. They never had the honor to truly know other, tragically, after Raphael was lost to them but Aziraphale made up for that loss in Uriel’s heart.

He had a fondness for knowledge, something Uriel appreciated dearly and loved to teach them of the humans he guided.

They sat in his back room on his comfortable sofa, Aziraphale resting his head on their shoulder as he softly read to them the work of William Shakespeare. Uriel wasn’t a fan of the tragedies and preferred the comedies from the man, but they would never let go of a chance to listen to their kit read to them. They had so few moments between each other now and they cherished each one they got.

There was something heavy on Uriel’s mind this evening and Aziraphale must have sensed it for he sat his book down. Uriel felt a tightness in their soul as their kit took their comfortable weight from their shoulder.

“What is wrong, Uriel?”

Uriel wasn’t one to keep their thoughts to themselves, it didn’t do anyone any good to do such things, if it needed be voiced, it should be and they could all go back to functioning normally. Yet, it seemed like this was the sort of thing they couldn’t voice. It tore at their soul to think such thoughts of their Aziraphale.

“Aziraphale,” they began straightening themselves before shifting back into their more comfortable true form. Aziraphale didn’t do the same to their dismay and stayed in his human state staring at the large owl perched on the back of his sofa, digging claws into his throw.

“You would never betray heaven, would you?”

Aziraphale faltered as they suspected he would, glancing back down at his book and running a finger across each word. Uriel was not foolish; they knew of the demon that followed their kit but couldn’t find themselves voicing this concern to their siblings. They had hoped with time the problem would go on its own accord, but Uriel still smelt the brimstone of hell lingering in their kit’s shop now.

“I love you and our family and our mother,” Aziraphale whispered at last bypassing the question entirely. 

Uriel had always showed favoritism towards Aziraphale, it wasn’t good for either of them, but they did so all the same and now wasn’t any different. They dropped the matter and prayed to their mother they could get rid of the demon by another means. Any means, any way to keep from announcing their kit’s betrayal of Heaven.

;

Heaven was swamped with paperwork; something was wrong on Earth. Three of their field agents had come up missing and by each report Michael was getting from Hell, half a dozen more of Hell’s agents were missing as well.

Someone or something was stealing them from right under their noses and there was no trace.

Uriel had gone down to inform Aziraphale of this phenomenon and their heart was filled with dread knowing he was missing as well. After making quick work of the demon who stalked their kit, they knew it was not involved of Aziraphale’s disappearance. 

They were perched atop the gated fence of the graveyard watching humans disturb the dead, a disgraceful sight they could only suspect of sinful creatures like the mortals. Born in her image yet always choosing to sway to Lucifer’s graces.

“I’m guessing you know my head office is having an influx of disappearances as well.”

They bristled as the demon dared approach them once more, they bared their claws ready to strike if they needed to.

“Listen,” it stated raising its hands cowardly in defeat, “I know you don’t like me, considering I tempt your kid and all, but things are real boring without the little bunny to thwart me and one of my best agents is missing as well, why don’t we call it truce and I can take you to my lead.”

“How do I know this isn’t a trap, demon?”

The demon gave them a devilish smile that would match Lucifer’s (if they remembered correctly, this was one of his spawns after all) and shrugged towards them.

“Listen, you can come with me and see if I’m telling the truth or you can just let a demon waltz around among all these helpless lost souls, your choice.”

Uriel didn’t feel they had much of a choice and flew down landing on the demon’s shoulder and digging their talons in deep making it squirm. They turned their large eyes towards the demon’s and it smiled once more leaning against its cane to make its pain look casual.

“Keep whatever form you want, we are going to a magic show, I don’t think they have enough standards there to care I am bringing an owl in.”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Oh, To Thank The Serpent](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22793839) by [Buckets_Of_Stars](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buckets_Of_Stars/pseuds/Buckets_Of_Stars)




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